


To Catch Falling Starlight

by SMITSJUSTAJAYREALLY



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale loves Warlock (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Warlock Dowling, Crowley is a better mom that Harriet, Found family fic, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mentions of verbal abuse, Other, Protective Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28569732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SMITSJUSTAJAYREALLY/pseuds/SMITSJUSTAJAYREALLY
Summary: “What?”You all may ask.“A demon having an all-encompassing love for humanity? Well, certainly that isn’t possible. Only an angel is capable of such love.”Well, allow Me to tell you, you’re wrong, and don’t think you can argue. I am the highest authority on all things. Most demons don’t love like that, because most demons don’t believe they can. And need I remind you, Crowley isn’t most demons.Crowley knew the way he felt was different, that most of Hell’s kind couldn’t feel the way he could, couldn’t love as much as he did.“So.”Crowley thought to himself on more that one occasion.”Seems I’m not even properly Fallen. I can love Aziraphale romantically and with the deepest bonds of friendship, and I love all living things with respect and compassion. Surely there is no other way I have the capacity to love.”Crowley was wrong, so very wrong.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling
Comments: 22
Kudos: 64





	To Catch Falling Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Starlight_fallen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight_fallen/gifts).



> This fic is dedicated to my very own Warlock. Remember kiddo, no matter how many times you fall or how often the world pushes you down, I love you unconditionally. Your found mother will always be here to help hang you back in the sky so you can shine your brightest.

Against what most religious folks will tell you, God is a being of love and acceptance. What I want more than anything from every creature I’ve ever created is not subservience and worship, but rather companionship and love.

I formed My first creations, the angels, with these same desires and the ability to mark others as theirs so that they might watch over and protect one another in my absence. The other being involved in this marking need not even know that this love has been extended to them, it simply involves taking away a piece of the giver’s own loving essence and placing it within the gifted’s soul.

Now, if you’re thinking, _“Isn’t that a bit invasive?”_ it’s all in how you look at it. The giver, in no way, can spy on the one they’re protecting, can’t track them because of the connection. That is unless the gifted is in danger, then an alarm goes off in the giver’s mind along with a general location of the one they love.

Very few angels used the Gift in this way. Instead, most were open with one another about it, creating family units, strong friendships, and romantic or queer platonic partnerships. The need to do it quietly came later when it was most often used by guardian angels for their charges and by demons for their long-term temptations.

I was with the Host briefly in that time before time, wandering among them and blessing the unions each of them had created, leaving shortly before the Fall. Crowley had known Aziraphale then, they had mutually agreed to their bonding. The two of them had been in love, Crowley remaining so after his Fall and Aziraphale would have if it hadn’t been for the archangels causing the companions of the Fallen to forget them.

Aziraphale would remember later. For five millennia he would forget, the memory tugging at the edges of his mind but never fully revealing itself. When Crowley was hurting or in danger, Aziraphale would feel that pull to respond. At first, he thought it his characteristic nervous energy fluttering to the surface, then later believed it to be his Heaven given ability to sense his enemy but near the beginning of 1020AD it dawned on him what he was feeling towards the demon. Aziraphale may have continued to not remember the archangel Raphael but he finally recognized that connection for what it was.

But we all know about their story, don’t we? I mean you wouldn’t be here reading this if you didn’t. This story is about a different type of connection and love. Another bond that Crowley created between himself and human.

Against what My archangels or Hell decides to tell their followers, angels and demons aren’t any different. They think they are, and belief is a huge decider of everyone’s capabilities and flaws[1]. You see, I didn’t call for the Fall, Gabriel and Michael did. I left all of Heaven to their own free-will, same as humanity, but we won’t get into that now either. Just know, I didn’t actually change My creations in any way, they chose to change themselves.

For six thousand years, Crowley relearned how to love, but honestly, My lovely Fallen angel never forgot. In Heaven his love for Aziraphale had been more available, easier for him to enjoy. He hadn’t needed restraint or to be selfless in order to protect, he learned those things because of the restrictions that were placed upon them once the universe decided they were on different sides. And for all those millennia, Crowley loved Aziraphale first and most, but he also learned to love humanity.

_“What?”_ You all may ask _. “A demon having an all-encompassing love for humanity? Well, certainly that isn’t possible. Only an angel is capable of such love.”_

Well, allow Me to tell you, you’re wrong, and don’t think you can argue. I am the highest authority on all things. Most demons don’t love like that, because most demons don’t believe they can. And need I remind you, Crowley isn’t most demons.

Crowley knew the way he felt was different, that most of Hell’s kind couldn’t feel the way he could, couldn’t love as much as he did. _“So.”_ Crowley thought to himself on more that one occasion. _”Seems I’m not even properly Fallen. I can love Aziraphale romantically and with the deepest bonds of friendship, and I love all living things with respect and compassion. Surely there is no other way I have the capacity to love.” **[2]**_

Crowley was wrong, so very wrong.

You see there is a love that happens to millions, but no one understands until that love falls into their lap. Hell[3], some humans are so damn[4] selfish, they can’t even comprehend that love when the gift is handed to them. Of course, this particular love like all the others, isn’t for everyone and that’s not a bad thing. What’s bad is when people create the object of this affection on purpose in order to exploit them, use them as a status symbol, another piece of property, or treat them like an annoyance. It was because of this very selfishness from two humans in particular that Crowley got to experience this love instead.

* * *

When Crowley pulls up to the Dowling’s residence for the interview, she is dressed in a fashion only half her typical style, conservative, yet stylishly sexy. The wardrobe choice obviously works, seeing as Thaddeus Dowling hires her on the spot.

She had to miracle Aziraphale’s acceptance for employment[5]. Her ridiculous angel never one to understand fashion or how humans, especially rich humans, make judgements based largely on looks. Aziraphale, the amazing being he is, loves everyone from their soul out.

Crowley is fond of the child the moment she meets him. The demon has always had a soft spot for children because they’re curious, they aren’t afraid to question or rebel against the status quo. Children aren’t set in their ways and therefore are much easier to have a civil, intelligent, unbiased conversation with, as opposed to their adult counterparts.

It takes less than a week for Crowley to fall madly in love with the smart, rambunctious, spirited five-year-old boy. Being with him is no chore at all, in fact Crowley finds she wants to spend time with the child even on the one off day she has a week. She tends to worry over Warlock when they were apart.

Needless to say, the demon isn’t very fond of Harriet or Thaddeus. The former more interested in her looks and her status to use any of her time actually being a mother. The latter is despised by Crowley even more than his wife because of his selfish drive for success and his toxic relationship to his son. Crowley has found herself tensed and prepared to fight on more than one occasion when Thaddeus, refusing to comfort his son when he’s hurt, instead smacks Warlock’s bottom and tells the crying child to _“man up.”_

Crowley’s love for Warlock is the only thing stopping her from ripping Thaddeus’ throat out. If she were to hurt the father, she’d never be allowed near the child again. [6]

* * *

Nanny and Warlock are on a picnic when it happens. Warlock had just turned 8 five days earlier. The summer day is warm and Crowley can see the blond tuft of Aziraphale’s head just above the foliage mere meters away.

“May I have my biscuits, before my sandwich?” Warlock flops onto the blanket before Crowley can even get it fully settled. He pulls his legs into the criss-cross position and looks up at her with big grey eyes.

“You may have whatever you like, my Starlight.” Crowley finishes adjusting the quilt, then smooths the fabric of her own skirt before kneeling next to the basket. “But, do you trust my counsel?”

“I do.” Warlock nods, his eyes still wide, as he scoots closer to where his Nanny now fully sits, her legs bent gracefully to the side. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Really?” She says with a surprised smile and a kiss to the top of ruffled, dark hair. “Then you really must talk to more of the staff. I can think of at least one fellow much smarter than me.”

Crowley looks toward the hedges and catches Aziraphale’s stare. The angel drops his gaze, a blush covering his mutton-chopped cheeks. She looks back to the child and continues. “Well, my royal Starlight, it is only wise that I counsel you in the ways of proper nutrition. Yes, it is fun to only eat your sugary treats, but then you won’t grow into your strongest and brightest self. A star can’t burn brightly without the proper fuel you know.”

Warlock smirks and snuggles closer to the dark clothed demon. “And you want me to burn brighter than everyone else.”

Crowley winds a spindly arm around the child allowing him to curl against her side. “I most definitely do. Which is precisely why I feel you must know, if you mostly fill yourself on sandwiches, which I add I made myself with love, and your vegetables, you will grow to burn so bright that no one and nothing can stop you from being who you want to be.”

“Because I can be anyone.” Warlock returns Crowley’s hug. “Not just who my mom and dad say I am.”

“Not who _anyone_ else says you are, Starlight.” Crowley hopes she and Aziraphale get this right. This child does burn too brightly to devolve into someone’s dark tool. “Only you can decide that.”

“And because you love me?” The child releases his nanny and looks up into her shaded face. “No matter who I choose to be, you’ll love me?”

“I’ll love you unconditionally and until the end of forever Starlight.” Crowley swipes her index and middle fingers past the child’s temple, pushing back stray hair. She turns to reach into the wicker basket for the sandwiches when the words reach her, quiet and timid.

“I love you too, mom.”

When Crowley looks the child is staring at his hands, as if waiting to be reprimanded. The demon looks to her angel companion for some sort of guidance. She wants so badly to accept this title, but what will Aziraphale think of her intent? She’s relieved to see, Aziraphale looking just as shocked as she, but smiling in that soft way that tells Crowley the angel is emotionally melting with love. And that seals the deal for her.

“You see me as a mother?” She asks gently, coaxing the small boy to continue. She places the sandwiches on the blanket and takes one of Warlock’s small hands.

“I do, you’re the best mom.” Warlock stares at where his hand rests in hers. “You’re a better mom than my mom or all my friends’s moms. But if you don’t want me to call you that, I understand.”

“I don’t think you should let your parents or the other staff hear you call me that, it might cause them to send me away.” Crowley hooks the index finger of her free hand under the child’s chin and lifts his eyes to her’s. “But I have never been granted a greater title or gift in my long, long existence than the one you have just given me. I will proudly be your mother.”

“Yeah?!” The child leaps forward into Crowley’s arms, squeezing her in the most powerful hug an eight-year-old can give. They are both laughing[7], until Warlock stills in Crowley’s arms and lets out a frightened whimper.

“What? What is it, Starlight?” Crowley pulls back to look the child over for any injuries _. Oh, Satan, did I hug him too tightly?_ She sometimes forgets she isn’t human while with him. No injuries to be found but that is when she sees the terrified way the child stares at Aziraphale over the hedge. “Oh, my beautiful boy, no need to worry over Brother Francis. Did you know he was my best friend way before I ever started working here? So, our secret is safe with him.”

“Then why do you both always tell me not to listen to the other?” Warlock relaxes but watches his nanny with curious suspicion.

“It turns out, we are both very fond of you, so we have this competition, where we tell you opposing things just to see who you’ll listen to.” Crowley is very proud of herself for how quickly she’s able to think her way out of these sorts of situations. “I tell you to do naughty things, he tells you to do goody-goody things and we take it as proof who you love best based on who’s advice you take.”

“Really?” The mischievous light has returned to Warlock’s face. “Then I guess I have no choice to be naughty from here on out to prove I love you best.”

_Oh shit._ Crowley realizes she may not be as smart as she thinks. She needs to redirect the child’s thoughts so as not to lead him to being the world destroyer Hell expects him to become. Instead, all that comes out is. “Ngk.”

“I’m joking, mom.” The word sounds clumpy on the little tongue, the duo still getting accustomed to the endearment. “I promise to grow to be someone you’ll be proud of. To stand up for myself while still caring about others.”

“That’s my bright shining Starlight.” Crowley coos with pride. She reaches behind herself and hands him a sandwich.

* * *

**3 Years Later, or the night it all changed**

“Don’t be like Light, right?” Warlock pounces onto the middle cushion of the sofa beside Crowley.

“Exactly, when you gain your powers in two weeks, don’t become like Light.” Crowley agrees, flicking the remote to start the next episode. She hadn’t realized how close to home the episodes of **Death Note** would hit. Light Yagami, the protagonist, given the power to bring death upon anyone he wishes by simply knowing their names and faces, slowly descends into madness believing he is a god. The fact that Warlock doesn’t want that for himself is a relief and proof that Crowley and Aziraphale have raised him well.

_My baby is growing into a good person_. She preens, settling back as the next episode starts.

“L is cooler anyway.” The pre-teen flicks hair from his eyes with a flip of his head. “I mean he’s definitely weird, but cooler.”

“Cool isn’t always about being like everyone else, Starlight.” Crowley crosses her legs and places her arm across the back of the sofa.

“I have treats.” Aziraphale announces proudly, stepping from the kitchenette of the small shack he has occupied since the beginning of his employment. Ever since Warlock became aware of Ashtoreth and Francis’ friendship, the three of them have spent most evenings here, after the boy’s studies, until time for him and his nanny to retire for the night to the main house.

“Thank you Brother Francis.” Warlock beams at the angel as biscuits and milk are placed on the coffee table in front of him.

“You’re welcome, dear boy.” Aziraphale returns the smile, and even with his crooked teeth and blotchy skin, Crowley thinks he’s still the most beautiful creature in the universe.

“What do you want for the birthday?” Aziraphale continues, settling onto the cushion to Warlock’s right.

“For us to be a family forever.” Warlock cuddles against Crowley’s side, throwing his socked feet onto Aziraphale’s lap.

“I’d like that too.” Crowley runs her fingers through straight black hair.

* * *

No member of the trio pays any mind to the open window, or to the Dowling’s driver, Shane stooping alongside Harriet as they creep outside. Their intent was not to creep on the nanny or the gardener, they were simply returning from a rather illicit rendezvous that neither wishes for Thaddeus or Warlock to know about. Harriet freezes in place when she hears her son say with confidence. “I love you mom.”

Her fear turns to rage when she realizes her son hasn’t spotted her, in fact he isn’t speaking to her at all. He’s calling that unnerving, gothic tramp mom and cuddling up to her and the nanny’s ugly ass boyfriend.[8]

Shane takes her hand and whispers. “Not here.”

Harriet nods in agreement and waves for her lover to continue in the shadows toward the house. It’s best to keep her cool, she doesn’t need a reason to fire the nanny or the gardener. Warlock’s too old to be coddled by a nanny anyway, and Francis has never been exceptionally good at his job. Harriet plans to have them both off her property by the following afternoon.

* * *

Crowley hasn’t seen Warlock in nearly two weeks, and his heart still aches from the unnerving fiasco that had taken his boy away. The way Warlock had called after Crowley, begged for the demon to not leave him as tears poured from those bright gray eyes, haunts him constantly.

I say him, because the first thing Crowley had done to cope was to change his corporation and cut his hair. He’d hoped it would help him feel some removal from the situation, like if he changed his shell maybe the way he felt would change as well. It was ridiculous of him to think he could shut off an emotion as strong as maternal love so easily.

A week after the incident he found himself, for the seventh time in as many days, in Aziraphale’s bookshop, crying and begging the angel to tell him what to do.

“We’ve done all we can Crowley.” Aziraphale had sighed, looking up from the book in his lap and over the wire rimmed glasses perched on the slope of his nose. “Our jobs have been performed to the best of our abilities.”

“Jobs?” Crowley had thrown his hands about wildly. He’d never heard Aziraphale sound more like an agent of Heaven in the long eternity they’d known one another. “He was just a _job_ to you?”

“Well.” Aziraphale looks flustered. He shuts the book and places it on the table beside his chair. “He is the tool of your side after all. It wouldn’t be sensible for me to actually care about the boy.”

“I can’t believe..” _How can you not love him? How do you not care?_ “You really are like the rest of your lot.”

Hurt flickers across Aziraphale’s face before the angel’s features harden and he replies primly. “Well, I should hope so, I _am_ an angel after all.”

“You know what.” Crowley can feel the hurt and rage of centuries of being slighted by the love of his life bubbling in his gut. He can handle this cold, never-to-care attitude when it is directed at himself but he can not stand for it to be directed at his boy. He bites his tongue to stop himself from the awful phrase he wishes to spout.[9] Instead he finishes with. “You know what, you’re not worth it.”

Aziraphale looks at the demon in slack-jawed shock as Crowley turns on his heels and marches toward the door. The angel jumps to his feet and starts to follow. “Crowley, please, I’m sorry. Just come back and talk with me.”

“Not today, Aziraphale.” Crowley felt a sinister pleasure in the way his friend startles at the lack of the customary pet-name. “I’ll contact you when I know something else about the _job._ ”

And with that he slams the shop door behind him.

* * *

**Monday, Five Days Later**

Crowley has kept to his word, not talking to Aziraphale until he’d received viable information to share. The fact that he’s chosen to meet at the Dinosaur Park he knew Warlock will be attending is none of the angel’s business.

He sees the blond approaching long before Warlock and Harriet appear on the lane below him. Aziraphale takes a seat to his right and the duo set in silence for several minutes.

Crowley’s anxiety has been up since their argument. _What if Aziraphale tries to hurt Warlock? Attempts to attack Crowley’s Starlight on Heaven’s command?_ Crowley loves Aziraphale, he could never see himself fighting with or harming the angel he’s loved since the beginning of existence. But he loves Warlock just as dearly, only in a much different way. Crowley rarely prays, but subconsciously he has been praying that this particular fear not come to light.

“Honey, look what they used to think dinosaurs looked like.” Both angel and demon’s heads swivel in the direction of Harriet’s voice.

“It’s dumb.” Warlock says morosely, and Crowley feels an even mix of sadness and love at the boy’s uncharacteristic reaction. Warlock has, until now, been such a lovingly sweet child. This snide attitude can only be the result of what Harriet has done to the two of them.

“It’s not dumb, sweetie. It’s a dinosaur.”

“A dumbasaur more like?” Warlock was never this petulant with Ashtoreth, but of course he felt loved not just bought when with her. “Can we talk about my birthday party? Why can’t we have my party in an escape room?”

“When’s his birthday?” Aziraphale’s gaze remains trained on the boy.

_Straight to business then, is it Angel?_

“Wednesday, that’s when it begins. Or, if we’ve done our job right, it doesn’t” Crowley turns his head to his long-time companion and studies Aziraphale’s face through shaded eyes _. What will you do to him if we haven’t? I can’t fight you Aziraphale, but I will put myself between you and the boy. Will you force me to make that sacrifice?_ “The hell-hound will be the key. It’ll show up at three on Wednesday.”

“You haven’t actually mentioned a hell-hound before.” Aziraphale meets his stare, the angel’s suspicion fully evident on his face.

“Well, they’re sending him a hell-hound, to pad by his side and guard him from all harm.” Crowley crosses his arms over his chest. Turning his attention back to Warlock, he hopes Aziraphale comprehends what he’s insinuating. “Biggest one they got.”

“Won’t people remark on the sudden appearance of a huge black dog?” The angel swallows audibly, one eyebrow arching high on his face. “His parents, for a start?”

“Nobody’s going to notice anything. It’s reality, Angel. And young Warlock can do whatever he wants, whether he knows it or not.” _Nervous, Angel? You have plans brewing for my Starlight?_ He remembers Aziraphale standing callously by as millions of children were murdered during the flood. “It’s the start of it all. The boy’s meant to name it, Stalks By Night, Throat-Ripper, something like that. But if you and I have done our job,[10] properly, he’ll send it away, unnamed.”

“And if he _does_ name it?”

“Then you and I have lost. He’ll have all his powers, and Armageddon will be days away.”

“There must be some way of stopping it.”

And there it is, Crowley’s opening, his way of knowing if the past five days anxieties are something he needs to prepare himself for. “If there’s no boy, then the process would stop.”

Aziraphale furrows his brow and Crowley feels a glimmer of hope begin to replace the doubt and fear. “Yes, but there IS a boy. He’s over there writing a rude word on the description of a dinosaur.”

In for a penny in for a pound. “There is a boy now. But that could change.”

Confused angel silence.

“Something could happen to him.”

Crowley waits, certain he can relax, but needing to get complete confirmation. “I’m saying you could kill him.”

“I’ve never actually killed anything. I don’t think I could.”

Crowley feels so light he could kiss the beautiful being beside him. “Not even to save _everything_? One life against the universe?”

Azirahale flusters and changes the subject to that of his magic act, and even though Crowley taunts him about his coin trick, he’s never loved Aziraphale more than in this moment.

* * *

**Wednesday**

_Oh Satan, Warlock is the wrong boy! This is bad on so many levels._ “I have to go back in.”

“We’ve only just got to the car!” Aziraphale looks to him, covered in cake. “What we _have_ to do is find the right boy.”

“I’ll only be a few Angel.” Crowley climbs back out of the Bentley and dashes for the mansion. “He’s in danger like the rest, I have to know he’s safe during this. I need to know there is some connection between the two of us if he finds himself in trouble.”

The looks of adoration on the angel’s face causes the demon’s steps to stutter. “The Gift.”

“Yes, Angel. The Gift. I’ll be quick about it.”

Aziraphale nods and Crowley bolts back onto the estate’s grounds. 

Crowley watches the boy as he runs from his father, who is currently having a fit about the mess all over the yard. When Warlock bolts into the garden, Crowley is quick to follow.

“Starlight.” He calls from behind a topiary.

“Nanny?” Warlock tilts his head, looking in the direction of the voice.

Crowley feels a pang at the child’s use of his former working title and not the one Warlock had blessed[11] him with on so many more occasions. “Yeah, it’s me, but I’m warning you, I look a bit different.”

“How different?” Warlock edges closer.

“Can I tell you a secret, one I could never reveal to you before?” Crowley hopes there is enough mercy left for him in this universe that this interaction will go well.

“You can tell me anything.” Warlock rounds the topiary and sees the man-shaped version of the woman he knows.

Crowley lowers his shades revealing his eyes, and as quickly as possible, while still conveying every important detail, he reveals his and Aziraphale’s true identities.

Warlock doesn’t scream or run away in fear, but that could be largely due to the way Crowley had raised him. It hadn’t been one’s typical upbringing.

He continues to fill Warlock in on what is about to happen, information on the strange people he will most likely encounter in the next few days and of the Gift Crowley wishes to bestow upon him.

“Of course, if it makes you uncomfortable, I won’t push it on you.” Crowley studies his child’s young face. Warlock is staring at him in open mouthed awe.

“I can have a guardian demon?” Warlock runs into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Of course I want that! Of course I want you to still find me and be in my life. I love you, mom.” His brow draws down in contemplation. “Can I still call you mom?”

“You can Starlight.” Crowley laughs, and urges that bright part of his essence to connect with his baby boy. “No matter how I look or identify, I will always be proud to have you call me mom.”

“Even though I’m not going to grow up to rule the world?”

“I never wanted that burden for you anyway, my heart.” Crowley holds the child to his chest. “I never wanted for you to be used in that way.”

“What if I fail you, what if I fall flat on my face with everything I do?” Warlock releases his hold and steps back to look the demon in his serpentine eyes.

“You won’t fall every time, but we all fall most times while we’re trying to make our way.” Crowley can’t help but smirk at the irony of the words. “Just know, that when my Starlight is Fallen, I will catch him and make sure to hang him back in the sky where he belongs.”

“You can do that?” No one has ever looked at Crowley with as much adoration as this child does now.

“I don’t have time to explain today, I’ve got a world to save.” The demon kneels, so that he can look his child directly in the eyes. “But when this is all over, I need to tell you about who I was before.” 

* * *

Warlock makes it through Armageddon without out any threat of harm. Of course, Crowley’s flight plan to Alpha-Centauri had involved kidnapping the child, but that situation had worked itself out. Luckily Aziraphale’s spirit had shown up at the bar when he did, so no one needs to know about Crowley’s thought about felony attempt.[12]

Crowley had needed to step in a few times as Warlock grew into adulthood. Thaddeus and Harriet could be a right arses. It’s amazing how a visit from a demonic snake in the middle of the night can change even the most selfish of people for the better.

Once he was old enough to make decisions for himself, Warlock found his way to see Crowley and his angel husband two to three times a month.

Eventually, in his mid-twenties, he cut ties with his toxic parents completely and came to call the angel and demon, Mom and Pop. He had stood as Crowley’s best man at Crowley and Aziraphale’s wedding, spent holidays with them and even introduced them to his fiancé when the time came that he too fell in love.

Not every day of his life was good. No person’s is, but Warlock spent every moment he had on this earth knowing that he was his Mother’s Starlight. And if he ever fell, a former star-maker was there to help position him back into the sky and believed he shone the best and brightest of them all.

[1] Plot twist, Hellfire and holy water can only hurt them because they believe those substances can. What everyone keeps forgetting is, it’s faith that makes things happen, faith that makes things real.

[2] Don’t look at Me like that. He really did have this conversation in his head on multiple occasions. So, before you argue, let me say, I think I would know his thoughts better than you.

[3] Yes, I’m cursing. There actually is no rule against it as long as you aren’t using your words to hurt the innocent.

[4] Ha, Ha, yup I did it again.

[5] Another bonus to their employment is that they both were permitted to live on the Dowling estate. Crowley in the main house in a room beside Warlock’s. Aziraphale in a small shack at the edge of the garden.

[6] Strangely enough Thaddeus tended to suffer from embarrassing bouts of ED, UTI’s and anal leakage for several weeks after each of these Incidents.

[7] If you were to ask Crowley, he would tell you he was definitely not crying. I am here to tell you, My lie detector test has determined, that is a lie. (That’s me, I am literally a walking lie detector test.)

[8]No one has proof Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis are an item, but if a person has eyes they can’t help but see the chemistry between the two.

[9]Crowley had never wanted to say “Fuck you” more to Aziraphale in his life.

[10] Crowley means it as the jab it is.

[11] For lack of a better word.

[12] Not that one really needs to worry about facing kidnapping charges if they’re off the planet. Or if there is no planet.


End file.
